


Safe Harbor

by Laryna6



Series: Noblesse Works [4]
Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Flashback Era AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 09:30:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8051101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laryna6/pseuds/Laryna6
Summary: Frankenstein's prone to drastically changing his behavior, but the first time it happens is rather a shock.





	Safe Harbor

**Author's Note:**

> One of the ones I had in the document folder for months while I continued my streak of failure to write actual smut. Blame Nerdanel for the title.
> 
> For someone so dedicated to helping others, someone as caring as Frankenstein, his pre-Raizel isolation would have been a special hell. The Union is basically set up to keep its slaves from realizing how powerful they'd be if they worked together so they wouldn't think of a strategy like this, but the older nobles were around when humans were evolving and, being empaths, really should know how we're wired. 
> 
> Eg. see Gejutel going 'There's no way he would... No, wait, human. Of course he did' re. Frankenstein going to Lukedonia.
> 
> Tradio wanted to acquire Frankenstein and his research ability, both in the flashback arcs and the modern day. Convincing him that there's nothing he can do on his own, that giving his data to the Union again is what humanity wants of him/the only way he'll be wanted and no longer be cast out... 
> 
> Frankenstein really just doesn't care anymore if he dies fighting Ragar and Gejutel. For someone as stubborn as Frankenstein, that does seem to indicate that he's damn near the breaking point by then. But there'd still be that part of him that wants to live, that knows he needs to get whatever it is he needs in order to live or else he won't be any help to humanity...

Frankenstein stared. Glowing power – Raizel’s power – hovered all around them. He should have felt trapped, should have felt panic at the knowledge he was ensnared in the power of a noble that _had his blood_ … But it was _Raizel’s_ power, Raizel’s aura. Safe. Familiar. Home. This feeling, it was what he had wanted, the reason he gave him that blood, for the chance to stay at his side forever.

Raizel could have done _anything_ to him, after Frankenstein made him waste his precious life. He could have made Frankenstein pay for his loss of control, but instead he offered Frankenstein what he wished for most. No, more than that, he _asked Frankenstein’s consent._

Thinking of it amazed him. A human in his power. Raizel had to have sensed the mad longing that drove him to put that blood in the tea, Raizel could have simply done whatever he wished to Frankenstein, taken what was now his, and instead he _asked_.

Wrapped in the power that had come to mean love and protection instead of the threat of mad beasts and cruel false gods, it was not enough to bow. He went to his knees before his… What was Raizel to him? What would he become, once this contract was made? He knew that very well, and he did not care. No, he welcomed it, for what would come with it. “Yes, Master,” he said, every fiber of his frame echoing the words.

 _Yes_.

He drew in a breath as he felt his soul reach out for Raizel’s, consumed by yearning. No, it had already been reaching, but now Raizel permitted the liberty. He felt himself surge forward, a wave cresting within him and falling, and when it poured back into him he felt traces of _Raizel_ come with it. This wouldn’t steal Raizel’s life, the Lord had assured him. Their souls would mingle, fragments of his own soul would fill the space made inside Raizel’s and _yes_. The thought of his soul sustaining his Master’s made him close his eyes and shudder.

With that movement, as he slowly let out that breath and relaxed into the feeling of Raizel’s soul, his Master’s grasp, he felt something fall away. Kneeling there he felt… Light, as though he had been in full armor plate and then shed it, a snake shedding its skin. The tension in his shoulders was gone: he felt _light_ , and naked. All his defenses gone, because he didn’t need them anymore. His burdens no longer crushing him.

How strange and miraculous that his soul was no longer only his own and yet he felt _free_. He drew in another breath as he stood, just feeling the air flow through him. Yes: he did feel light, but there was a slowness to his movements, as though he walked on the bottom of the sea.  The sea was a good place to find refuge and sleep: it was easy to make himself impossible for even nobles to find down there. A safe place. Like this manor. Like _Raizel_.

Pressure all around him: a medium thicker and heavier than mere air. He’d known that Raizel’s energies flooded this house, but he hadn’t been so _sensitive_ before.

“Are you alright?” Raizel asked, watching Frankenstein with concern.

He swept into a bow, moving slowly, feeling his body move through the air saturated with his Master’s power. “I will bring you a new pot of tea, Master.”

Raizel nodded, sitting.

That would give Frankenstein time to take stock of this.

A few steps outside the door, and he noticed again that he felt so _light_. As naked as the day he was born, all his scars, sins and calluses of the soul washed away. He’d been carrying far more dirt and darkness than Dark Spear, and now he was _clean_.

“ _Baptism_ ,” he thought. “ _Is this the origin of the ritual? A rebirth through the power of a God.”_ All his sins forgiven by a Master who wanted him even after having known him for ten years.

He still _cared_ about his duties, about stopping the noble criminals and protecting humanity, but he no longer felt the, hmm. Urgency? No, he had already accepted that he would need to treat this as a _very_ long-term project. Guilt that he wasn’t able to resolve it faster, that he was taking so long because of his weakness? Fear of failure?

That might be it. He was still afraid that innocent people were suffering, he still cared, but he no longer needed to fear that Dark Spear would devour him instead of the criminals now that he had Raizel’s protection. He knew that the Noblesse would keep the traitors among the clan leaders from getting him before he could get them.

 _He was no longer alone_. He had backup, someone he could rely on, a place of safety. Someone he could trust utterly, even with his soul. Of course he was no longer afraid. He didn’t need to be. He’d bared his throat for the knife and _he could trust Raizel_.

‘ _Give me a lever and a solid enough place to stand_.’ Now he had someone he could always rely on. Someone with the strength to protect themselves, so Frankenstein could know that he wasn’t endangering Raizel with his presence here. He could stay here, at Raizel’s side, without guilt or fear.

He would need to put himself through his paces, test out his moves and be sure of his control over his strength, if the addition of Raizel’s power had altered his sense of his body this much. Was it increased strength or something else that made him feel light as a feather? He could already fly, but it seemed as though an idle thought could send him soaring.

But, _oh,_ he took a deep breath and let it flow through him, flexed his fingers just to feel his Master’s presence within and without him. Like being underwater, except he was never meant to breathe air, it was the water that felt _right_.

 _Held_. No, _cradled_. He was here in his Master’s grasp, in his Master’s power, and who could force their way through it to reach him? He did not need to raise his defenses, let the armor of uncaring wrap around him again and slowly strangle his soul. His Master… He would not allow his Master to fight for him, of course not, but his Master was his defense. He would sense ill intent in time for Frankenstein to defend them, surely, so for now, for now he could simply watch his hands as he prepared the tea. Breathe in, breathe out, _breathe_ , feeling his heartbeat slow and calm and his hands grow slow and deliberate, able to _savor_ this instead of grasping each moment as though it could be the last.

Normally he ran to Raizel’s room, a little practice maneuvering but mainly because the house was too big. All this space and no properly designed servants’ passages, honestly. He supposed that nobles, who rarely ate, didn’t need to worry about the food getting cold, but it didn’t matter.

What mattered was that he could savor this moment, carrying a gift to his Master, and Master’s tea was still warm enough. “Your tea, Master,” he said, bowing and making an offering of it.

Not simply of the pot, but the hands that held it. Not simply the tea, but the blood in his veins.

He was utterly defenseless. Raizel could slay him with a _thought_. Instead of fear, that knowledge made Frankenstein shiver for a moment with _delight_. This Master, his chosen could do _anything_ to him, and he wasn’t. If Raizel pressed his will against Frankenstein’s mind right now, he would yield to him _gladly_ , his soul singing at Raizel’s touch and his heart, oh, his heart so glad to not be alone that he had already decided that he would give _anything_ to be kept at Raizel’s side. It was his own decision and he would bear the consequences if he had chosen wrong but he _hadn’t_. His Master deserved the faith Frankenstein had placed in him. He had someone he could always rely on.

Another shiver, and he put the pot down before he let trembling hands jostle the tea. “Frankenstein?” his Master asked as Frankenstein slowly, gracefully went to one knee before his chair.

“Master,” he said, eyes half-lidded as pure contentment flowed through him.

He felt Raizel look at him, not intruding on his mind (ah, his Master!), but swirling around him, brushing over him carefully, and he shuddered with it, warmth and love sliding over his skin like nothing else. He who had guarded his mind for so long let Raizel feel him, no barrier raised against Master. No, he _wanted_ his Master to feel his love and devotion. “You may read my mind, Master,” he told him, almost hoping for it. To feel himself so open, to bear such an intimate touch… But Master was already in the deepest part of his mind, Master’s soul entwined with his and he had to close his eyes at the _joy_ that thought gave him.

“I would not intrude,” his Master said.

Frankenstein shook his head. “How could you intrude upon what is yours, Master?”

Master did not respond, so he continued to kneel, basking in the warmth of his Master’s regard. Breathing in the power that enfolded him. Eventually, of course, his Master stood and went to the window. Frankenstein stood and took his leave with a bow.

He had a garden to tend, fruits to harvest, another shirt to make because his Master enjoyed choosing which to wear… So many ways to show his love and devotion to his Master, to display his gratitude for the contract between them, the promise that he could stay here forever.

* * *

 “He has not been as aggressive in our spars – he’s begun pulling blows instead of landing them,” Ragar said, puzzled. “I hope I have not offended him.”

Gejutel looked at him askance.

“The first time we sparred, he said that experience would be the best teacher, and that the pain of a blow landed would encourage me not to let it happen again. Then he laughed and said that it was almost a pity he would have to teach me a lesson while performing his own training.”

That sounded like Frankenstein. Even though Frankenstein hadn’t sounded like Frankenstein in weeks. Except, Gejutel corrected himself, when Gejutel told him that he shouldn’t call the Noblesse Master, because the Avatar of Power wasn’t supposed to wield authority. It wasn’t as though he’d expected Frankenstein to thank him for warning him before he got Cadis Etrama di Raizel in trouble. He _had_ expected Frankenstein to say that noble rules and customs had nothing to do with a human.

Gejutel admitted that he probably should have expected Frankenstein to threaten to fight him, although even though Frankenstein wanted, or used to want, excuses to fight the clan leaders, fighting him for the right to call a noble master? Or if Gejutel tried to stop him? It had seemed like either young foolishness or a joke at his expense, so Gejutel had decided not to step into the trap. At the time, at least. Now that Frankenstein’s strange behavior had continued for this long?

“He moves differently,” Ragar said as they returned to the castle to report to the Lord.

“Yes,” Gejutel agreed thoughtfully. No longer forceful, like he was showing even the floors of Lukedonia who was boss – and showing his control over his strength, that he could stomp his feet without creating a hole in the dirt.

“Like Sir Raizel.”

Gejutel’s ears pricked up at Ragar’s thoughtful words. “Oh?” And when had Ragar seen Sir Raizel walk? Gejutel had done so only rarely.

“Sir Raizel is careful of the world around him. Every step he takes is watchful: he treats the world as though it is precious.”

Happy to see it.

Happy to see _them_. “He smiled when he opened the door to greet me and there wasn’t anything sharp or secretly mocking about it. It sent chills down my spine.”

* * *

Frankenstein smiled as he set the tea tray down on the little table. He smiled because the room was clean and aired out, with the larger windows he’d installed open, letting his Master stand in the sunlight. He smiled because his experiments were going well, and he had the luxury of doing a few chemistry experiments to better understand some of the processes involved in cooking so he could optimize how he prepared dishes for his Master.

His Master would surely enjoy tonight’s dish. He knew that something was bothering his Master, but interesting food would distract him. Frankenstein’s happiness would help him feel better, the way the fear of the other nobles made Master uncomfortable.

A breath in, flowing down his throat. A breath out, slow and calm and _peace_.

He still had so much to do – traitors to identify and kill so they wouldn’t have the chance to kill more humans or waste his Master’s precious life. Experiments and training, so he had the power to eliminate them without drawing on the Noblesse’s power and burning up his own life. That would make Master sad, and Frankenstein… He did not want to die, not when he could be by Master’s side as long as he lived. The peace within him, the energies swirling around him even soothed Dark Spear, and the chance to do something to ease the pain of those poor souls?

Perfect. That was existence as his Master’s contractor. Perfection itself.

* * *

“Will you stay here, Frankenstein?”

“Yes, Master,” he said. Bowing, he missed the slight frown on Master's face.

* * *

The Lord gasped and went to his feet as soon as Sir Cadis Etrama di Raizel entered the throne room. Raizel leaving his house without his order or 'request?' “What has happened? Has he made trouble for you?” he looked at Gejutel.

Gejutel frowned. “He has not made trouble at all, for anyone.” It was becoming more than a little disturbing, honestly. “I thought it was an act, but keeping it up this long?” Going this long without even ruffling Gejutel’s feathers?

“He has not been the same since we made our Contract.”

“What’s wrong?”

Raizel closed his eyes. “Before, his thoughts were dominated by anger at those who harmed the innocent, and the will to protect. Now, he is peaceful and happy. He has become what I wished for him.” He looked at the Lord, face still unreadable. “Have I forced him to go against who he is?”

The Lord’s eyes narrowed. “Normally, knowing you, of course not!” he said, putting on a reassuring smile. “…But since he isn’t a normal human, I’ll check. I wouldn’t want you to worry.”

* * *

Frankenstein stood and dusted off his hands. Master was back sooner than expected: he would have to hurry to cut the fresh flowers for Master’s room. Gejutel and the Lord were with him: it wouldn’t do for Master’s room to have old, faded flowers. He could finish gathering greens for dinner’s salad (Raizel could stomach their bitterness with the right dressing and fruits) once they were gone.

It didn’t take long to be ready to open the door: he had learned quite a few things from observing Ragar Kertia.

“Welcome home, Master,” he said, greeting him with a smile. Bowing respectfully as he held the door for Master and his guests, he closed it when they were inside and followed Master to his room at a respectful distance. One that let him watch Raizel instead of the wallpaper.

He offered tea to them once they reached Master’s room – the Lord would just have to put up with the cup Ragar Kertia normally used. The Lord expressed cheerful gratitude, while Gejutel accepted the cup politely but then peered down at it like he was hoping it might contain something as obvious and harmless as a scorpion.

Frankenstein stood by his Master’s chair.

There was some one-sided chatter from the Lord, before an, “Oh, by the way Frankenstein.”

He looked up, mildly curious. If he didn’t address the noble, it would be less obvious and more elegant that he wasn’t calling him Lord.

“According to Gejutel, you’ve changed since you made the contract. I thought that a contract with Raizel would make you happy, but Raizel is worried that you’ve changed too much, that he might have _made_ you happy. He worries a lot about you.”

“Yes,” Frankenstein agreed… But then he blinked, and his smile slowly became a frown. “I… I knew that Master was worried. I should have reassured you with reason instead of happiness, but… I appreciated your worry, Master. I am glad that you value my will enough to fear for it.” He winced. “Forgive me for my selfishness. I didn’t think.”

Raizel blinked at him doubtfully.

 _Oh_?

Master didn’t seem to believe that Frankenstein would ever be thoughtless.

It made him chuckle, flattered that Master thought so highly of him.

“Aha!” The Lord smiled. “Gejutel, fetch a hermit crab.”

“Now, Lord?”

“Yes, get started now. A live one and whatever it needs to stay alive outside the sea.” He frowned when Gejutel didn’t move.

Instead of saying, ‘Please behave in front of the human,’ Gejutel sighed, stood, and made his apologies to Sir Cadis Etrama di Raizel.

“Oh good, Muzaka hasn’t told you what a hermit crab is.” The Lord looked pleased.

‘Muzaka?’ Frankenstein wondered. What was the perpetually-absent Werewolf Lord doing telling Master things?

…He should not have felt jealous. Nor should his eyes have narrowed. He should have been glad that someone was telling Master about interesting things, but what was the Werewolf Lord doing associating with the Noblesse? Frankenstein wouldn’t let Muzaka use Master to clean up his messes… He blinked and looked down at his sleeve to see that Master had tugged on it. “Forgive me, Master,” Frankenstein said, hanging his head and blushing. Had he allowed Master to sense his unworthy desire to murder Master’s acquaintance?

Master shook his head, no apology necessary. “You felt like you did before, for a moment.”

“…I didn’t actually like feeling that way,” Frankenstein confessed. “I had to convince the servants of the criminals that I didn’t care for others, or they would have taken innocent humans hostage to use against me. I spent a long time pretending to be ruled by hatred. Until, I think, the lie was in danger of becoming reality.” A thought struck him, and he tried to push it aside, because no, gentle Master wouldn’t feel that way, but, “Master… You didn’t prefer the me that was ruled by hatred and contempt, did you?” Master couldn’t prefer the mask to the person Frankenstein wanted to be?

Raizel shook his head quickly. “I am happy to see you smile like this, but I want you to be you, Frankenstein. I do not want to damage your precious soul.”

Oh. “Master…” he said adoringly, quite forgetting the Lord’s presence and his pride as a human. He normally made an effort to restrain himself from being too worshipful of his Master in front of others, but he simply couldn’t help it.

“Aww,” the Lord said, a broad grin on his face. Seeing a noble so pleased with himself should have irritated Frankenstein, but he couldn’t really muster up much of that emotion seeing Master’s little sigh. Master could be annoyed enough with the Lord for the both of them. Seeing him be disrespectful of the ruler of the nobles on Frankenstein’s behalf…  “So! A hermit crab. They’re a crab – Frankenstein may have fed you some by now – with a helpless soft edible body. They need a shell to protect it. When they grow too big for the shell they’re using, they have to go looking for a new shell to keep them safe. Frankenstein’s shell was his anger and bitterness, all tough and spiny so anything that tried to bite it would go, ‘Ow!’ Now he has you to protect him! Look at how he’s all wrapped up in your power, aren’t humans the cutest? Except for Raskreia, of course.”

Master. Master was the cutest.

“So, Frankenstein, how would you feel about a noble attacking humans… And how does thinking about someone hurting my little Raizel make you feel?” The Lord sparkled with delight. “See, Raizel?”

Raizel sighed, nodded, and seemed to realize that his hand was still on Frankenstein’s sleeve.

“And he just realized that he’s been in love with you for ten years! That’s a long time for a human, he has a lot of infatuation to catch up on.”

…Oh, Frankenstein thought, not quite numb with shock that he hadn’t realized, it hadn’t even occurred to him that was what this was.

The Lord stared at him. “You didn’t figure it out even after making a true contract and acting like a newlywed? Well, you’ve been acting like you’ve been married for a decade, so you might not have noticed a difference.”

Yes, like a couple in an arranged marriage, that had to share a house and might grow to care for one another, if they treated each other with respect and gave the other person space. There was a saying that you wouldn’t know whether or not you loved someone until you had known them for seven years. Frankenstein liked to think that he had _known_ , if he hadn’t known that Raizel was worth, worth loving, worth _everything_ then he wouldn’t have considered making a contract with him, giving him that trust.

So Raizel wasn’t the only one who had thought that Frankenstein’s feelings were because of the contract? He’d thought that something so immense had to be unique, something that could only exist between him and his Master, but how much of that was because this feeling could never exist between him and anyone other than Raizel? He’d had schoolboy crushes in his schoolboy days, but this? This was… He looked down at Raizel and felt that utter adoration.

Adore. _Ad orare_ , to speak to. To _pray_. Raizel was one of those called gods, and yet he would always listen to Frankenstein, always care. Frankenstein’s feelings, his will and soul mattered so much to his Master that he wanted to wrap them all up in a bow and lay them at Raizel’s feet, hoping that he would find them worthy. That he would want to keep them. Want to have them and Frankenstein for his own.

“Now kiss.” If it was an order Frankenstein would have threatened the Lord, reigning monarch or no reigning monarch. Even more if it was a comment made in mockery, but instead it was, or seemed to be a very earnest suggestion, and made to Raizel, not the human.

“I decline,” Raizel said firmly, and Frankenstein should have felt happy that Raizel wasn’t letting the Lord interfere in their relationship. It shouldn’t have felt like a slap in the face.

Even after realizing that he loved Master, he still hadn’t realized that he wanted Master to kiss him until this?

“Look, you’ve made him sad,” the Lord told Raizel. “Hugs and kisses are good for humans! If that you’re worried that he’s not being himself in order to make you happy, then you should encourage him to be himself.”

Raizel looked at Frankenstein for his opinion, and dear God, _his_ dear God, he loved him so. He wanted to ignore the Lord, throw caution to the winds and kiss the brow just barely wrinkled with concern for him.

“I’ll see myself out,” the Lord said cheerfully.

“The window is that way.” If he walked all the way to the front door it would take him too long to get out of the house and leave the two of them alone. “Master,” he purrs when they are alone. It’s so _easy_ to draw Raizel’s hmm. Senses? Gaze? To make his Master _feel_ him, and there is power in that because his Master cares about his feelings.

He lets Master feel how _safe_ he feels here, first. “I gave you my name the first night we met, because you protected me. Not in hope of gain, but simply because that was what you wanted to do. Is it so strange that I would give you all of me, with years to learn that you are that kind of person?”

His Master frowns: the Noblesse should know more of human and noble nature than this, but he still seems to have no idea. It made Frankenstein chuckle. “I can’t criticize. I missed this part of my nature. No, I suppressed that need. It would be greedy of me to want a protector, when there were so many in need of my protection. When there was no one able to protect me, and those who were willing… I couldn’t put them in danger like that.”

 _Grief_ surged through him, for the people he hadn’t been able to protect, and he saw the concern in Master’s eyes,  and it struck him again. Master’s compassion, Master’s caring, when it had been so long and he has to… he doesn’t know what, but a knee bends, his body remembering how it felt when he swore himself to Master, consented to the gift of this bond and _closer_.

Damn it, he thought he’d turned off his sex drive. He couldn’t afford that human need for closeness, not when it would make them targets. Yet no, it’s a pull within his soul, dragging his body along with it. Frankenstein observed it, trying to study and understand the phenomenon, looking up at Raizel’s eyes to feel his reaction to those windows of the soul, and he saw Master’s relief that yes, Frankenstein was thinking, was feeling like himself.

It made him want to find some way to keep observing something, to keep reassuring him, and that was what made him nudge a certain something back the way it was originally (obviously he’d done only minimal tampering with a fundamental human drive, thank goodness there was already a natural state where it was off) and _oh!_

Everything was fire and _need_ and _rightness_ , oh such rightness, because his soul was tangled up in Raizel’s and that was what this drive was for, so two souls would join as their bodies did and bring forth new life, protect that life with the strength of their love and his Master’s soul was so _open_ to him, so warm and soft and giving and he ached to bury himself in it as he pressed his mouth to his Master’s. He hadn’t even noticed his body surging forward, didn’t know when he’d ended up in Master’s lap, but that was where it belonged. Where they _were_ , souls pressed together, skin to skin and _under_ the skin.

His soul was allowed to mingle with Master’s until it was satiated, he had experienced a consummation of the soul, but his body, oh, his body, and his Master’s!

He loved his Master, his heart hammering in his chest. He _needed_ to give voice to that love, let his Master feel it, and his body spoke a language of kisses and caresses, of burying his hands in his master’s hair, of biting his neck without pain to tell his Master that Frankenstein would _never_ cause him pain.

The strength of that lust didn’t frighten him per se. He simply had learned caution when faced with things of that power… yet he’d also nurtured his audacity, and he’d always loved a _challenge_.

Only his hatred of wastefully destroying things kept his fingers from shredding Raizel’s clothing from that body that could never be anything but glorious. It could be a mutant’s or a troll’s or even a woman’s, and he would kiss and adore and _need_ it for the soul it contained. His soul dwelled within his Master’s body, and his body ached to join it.

He forced himself to pull back from his Master’s face, looking at him imploringly, trying to force an overwhelmed mind to surrender the words that would convince his Master to hear his petition, to let him have his Master.

Instead of looking affronted or startled by Frankenstein’s rash actions, his Master was only smiling to himself. “Recklessly doing as you please… How like you, Frankenstein.”

When his Master wanted him to be himself, and being himself would reassure his Master. “Please, Master. Let me claim you, as I claimed your estate and company. You let my blood slip past your lips: let our flesh become one. Let our bodies join as our souls have joined.”

His Master nodded, blushing softly. “I have wished to take part in your strong will to protect.” He began to glow the way the air around them glowed when their contract was sealed, and Frankenstein remembered what bliss that was… only for his hopes to be dashed when his Master vanished from beneath him.

It hit him like no mere cold water could, not after his enhancements, until he felt a familiar presence flow into him, nestling deep within his soul.

He didn’t even notice it when he slid from the chair. Was this how Dark Spear would have felt if it was born of willing love instead of enslaved madness?

…He hoped not, since the noble soul weapons were born of the feelings parents had for their children. His Master’s feelings were not human lust, but they certainly weren’t empty of desire.

 _The Noblesse’s own blood and soul are his soul weapon_ , the Lord had told him. His Raizel was a _soul weapon_? …Had Dark Spear been making his Master jealous? Was that why it displeased him so when Frankenstein was no longer as obsessed with fighting, even if they couldn’t fight together without the loss of Master’s precious life?

Master’s feelings flowed through him, not pleased possessiveness but blushing delight.

“ _This is the fate of a normal soul weapon, is it not, Master? Their joy. And you would have seen them within the souls of the clan leaders. Seen their happiness.”_ And now Master could taste it for himself, because of Frankenstein? He could give Master a home within his soul, as Master had given him a home by Master’s side. Transcendent joy welled up within him, and he drew in a heated breath because the pulse of _love_ within him further inflamed a body that wanted Master as much as his mind loved him.

“ _Do as you wish_ ,” Master assured him. “To be your weapon to wield…”

This _gift_ … He’d given Master his very soul, Master could take anything from him, and instead he wished to… His body shuddered, and his hand touched the front of his pants. He knew that he would need to send this instinct dormant again, or…

His hand pressed against the bulge.

Yes, that. Raizel touching his soul so intimately inflamed his lustful body, it _craved_ touch, wanted to spill itself in his hand and leave him lying here on the floor of Raizel’s room, pleasantly tired and satiated and so very willing and vulnerable, a face he would only show to Master and Master alone.

It made him blush, he didn’t want to disgrace himself in front of Master, so it was such a relief that Master was not displeased. “ _Do as you will, Frankenstein._ ” Master admired his strong will, found him beautiful and glorious and his body pressed up into his hand again as he felt Master in his soul, in his very  blood and bones. A gasp came from his lips and he _wanted_ , it felt so good to _yield_ , to let himself chase his own pleasure as his Master watched, approving and pleased and _enthralled_ by the light of his soul, by how he offered up this chaos of love and joy and pleasure, an offering fit to seduce a god to come down to be worshipped.

And he _wanted_ Master to let him worship, wanted Master to claim his lips. Wanted him to _want_ Frankenstein, to hold him in his arms and press him against the floor and _take_ him, take and have and keep him forever.

His lips parted, crying out, and he _wanted_ Master to take them, kiss them, desire him as he desired Master.

For a moment he thought it strange that he wanted to be wanted, when he was sick of the criminals and traitors pursuing him, hated the uses they would put him to if they were able to catch him, force him to his knees before them, but this was, ‘ _Master_ ,’ who let Frankenstein’s wishes guide him, who knelt by his side and bowed down to catch Frankenstein’s hungry mouth, kissing him slow and deliberate, responding to how Frankenstein wished to be kissed before he even knew what he wanted.

And oh, oh, that he would do this for him, oh his, “ _Master.”_

He came back to himself, to _Raizel_ still on the floor of that sunlit room, still fully clothed, with a hand carefully adjusting his clothing. Not taking it off, but making sure he was neat and elegant, because that mattered to them both. He would have expected to feel sticky and disgusting, but Master must have banished that. It made him smile, opening his eyes. “Next time,” he advised the innocent Noblesse, “Carry me to my bed and strip me of my clothing.”

Raizel looked bothered by the thought of that, when the first night they met Raizel had given him clothing. He knew how important it was to Frankenstein.

“You’re right: I don’t allow anyone to see me naked or disheveled. But you are not just anyone. I have not changed my wishes and preferences, but you, and you alone, are the one I want to do these things. The one I trust to do them. I _want_ you.”

Here he was, going on and on. He shouldn’t be trying to talk now, and what did Raizel know of lovers’ words?

“I do not know how to give you what you want.”

“I will show you,” he promised. Perhaps he should feel guilty at the thought, but the shudder of desire that ran through him brought an echo of _interest_ from Master. If it was his human desires that intrigued the noble, if Raizel wanted Frankenstein’s wishes, desires, even his _fantasies_ , then if it was Master’s wish as well, how could he not?

He felt himself begin to harden again at the thought. It shouldn’t be a surprise that his enhancements had also affected this portion of his stamina.

Raizel reached to touch him, and what was this? Was he mistaken, or was that _lust_ from his Master?

“I prefer it to the strawberry marzipan cakes,” Raizel said firmly, but then glanced up at him from under dark eyelashes with concern. Was that alright? Was it acceptable to ask for this, the way he now knew he was allowed to ask for tea, when Frankenstein didn’t bring it or Raizel wanted it?

“I want you to desire me. I want to feel your desire melding with my own.” If Raizel’s touch wasn’t enough to inflame him, _speaking_ of such things, imagining them in glorious detail and letting them pass his lips for his Master’s ears would have done it. “I want to feel,” he said softly. “Something that isn’t pain or anger.” Or worse, hatred, his for those _bastards_ and Dark Spear’s for him. The _shame_ his inability to help them, to help humanity inspired, until a part of him wanted to curl up and just… just stop, because he was so very tired, it had been so long, so deathly long.

Master’s hand touched his cheek and he pressed into it. The warmth of… not of another human, but of his Master who cared for him. He savored it, letting his eyes close, and only opened them again in disappointment when Master withdrew his hand. Only to slide it under his back, another gathering up his legs. It was easy to pick up a human with noble strength.

Frankenstein blinked at his Master in surprise.

“I would like next time to be now.”

And he had said that next time he would like Master to carry him to bed.

He blushed, but couldn’t try to dissuade Master. Master’s elegance hopefully kept it from looking ridiculous, that he was carrying someone as tall as Frankenstein like this. He pressed his head into his Master’s neck, embarrassed and excited. Perhaps they might even fall asleep in that bed? Nobles did not need to sleep, but they could if they found it enjoyable. For Frankenstein to fall asleep with someone there, his Master’s warm presence? The thought was almost too much, it made him clutch at Master’s white shirt.

His Master let out a little sigh, not of displeasure at his inelegance but of relief. “I do not mind that you want things. I am used to you pursuing what you want.”

When he had stayed on Lukedonia hunting the criminals… Yes, it would be reassuring to Master to feel his strong desire to claim this prize.

As long as Master didn’t mind… No, it was more than that. It _delighted_ him that Master was fond of his willful streak, admired his will instead of wanting to control it. It made him dare to reach up and kiss the side of Master’s chin.

If that was what Master wanted, he could be willful and lustful enough to satisfy twenty nobles, if he had ever wanted any but this one in his bed. He stroked Raizel’s hair, and considered the noble’s isolation. It was a near-certainty that Raizel was still a virgin, so it would be unfair to expect him to fulfill all of Frankenstein’s fantasies without thorough instruction. His expression of utter concentration when he slowly savored a dessert: Frankenstein was certain that Raizel would be utterly beautiful in pleasure. He wanted to _watch_ and if Master was taking him he would be far too distracted.

He, yes, oh, he wanted, he _needed_ to take this exquisite being for his own. To bind them together in soul and flesh and mind, every way possible. “You will never be alone again, Master,” he promised, and heard an echo in his soul of, ‘ _I will never be alone again_.’

* * *

“Ragar has been concerned for you and said that his training is suffering because you still lack aggression.”

Frankenstein hmmed softly. “I will bring you a lock of his hair as a token of my regard.” There, that would give him some motivation.

Especially when afterwards, running that stolen lock through his hands, he discovered how sleek it was. Human hair was normally too painful to make into clothing – wearing a hair shirt was a form of mortification of the flesh – but he should have considered how Master’s hair felt in his hands.

Hmm, he thought, smiling slowly. The thought of sheering nobles amused. Their hair would also grow back quickly. Gold wasn’t Master’s color, but if it could be dyed? And if he was dying it anyway, what other nobles had hair of a useful length?

It would be a challenge for him to get the drop on Krasis Bluster, and hmm. Where was the Agvain clan estate, again?

He was humming when he returned to Master’s room bearing the promised lock. When he straightened from his bow, he saw his Master looking pleased.

Oh? Well, yes, he _was_ contemplating doing things that would ruin noble dignity. And if it pleased his Master, then really, who could blame him for sneaking into Urokai’s home in the middle of the night and… possibly bringing the whole noble home if practical, Master hadn’t seen him since that night and he might be getting worried about Urokai.

**Author's Note:**

> Rai, Rai, no. Do not provide positive reinforcement when Franken is murderous, he’s bad enough as it is.
> 
> Gejutel uses the word rebirth/reborn for a contract, and I’m wondering if that was why Tao said ‘reborn as his knights’ for RK. 
> 
> Before we got the flashbacks, the difference between combat mode/’original?’ Frankenstein and the perfect servant made us wonder if he was being mind controlled because of the seeming 180. So I wondered what happened when the contract was originally made, and Frankenstein started acting the way he does for most of the webtoon for the first time?
> 
> A Rai who has never seen relaxed Franken, just the angry stray, might be worried he mind-controlled him. Then I thought of Franken wondering if like this he is not the person Raizel wanted a contract with/if he needs the façade he took on to please Raizel.
> 
> Look at the scene where he puts the blood in the tea - Frankenstein wanted to be imprisoned, to be kept at Raizel’s side, where he is safe and has a home and can have friends. So tired of freedom, or fighting for freedom but having his life forced to be the opposite of what he wanted.


End file.
